


Repeated Error

by cadkitten



Category: Dir en grey
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-09
Updated: 2008-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-14 00:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Die's lost in his own world, a world where he has to be perfect for everyone - a simple impossibility. Can one person really save another from drowning within themself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Repeated Error

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, I had to do this. If you've got a problem with it, then keep it to yourself, because you seriously don't want me to start fighting with you about _this_ of all things. I have my own eating disorders and I don't need anyone's shit over what they think is or is not happening. This is a story, not some tale of truth.  
>  Song: "People Error" by the GazettE

Deep inside, I know that what I'm doing isn't right. I know I'm hurting myself and everyone around me, maybe even people I never factored into the equation. But that doesn't change my actions... it never has, and it never will. I just keep going down this road, a repeated error. An error in what, I'm unsure. My judgment, maybe.

I try so hard to do what everyone wants of me, but I always end up tugged in a million directions. I feel lost... alone, standing in the middle of a thousand people. How can one be alone in a crowded room? I can....

I love every moment I spend with someone laughing by my side, every moment someone looks up to me and every time they find something in me that they want so desperately to see in themselves. I thrive on that. I ache to be that person for everyone, at every moment. But I know that's a pointless path. I can't be everything to everyone. Hell, I can't even be everything I need to be for myself.

I'm trapped in this endless repetition of self-hatred.

Ridiculous... maybe. But the truth, nonetheless. I can't seem to find the direction that I need to follow in order to be truly happy and fulfilled. Every time I stand in front of all these people and play my heart out to them, all I can think about is what am I doing wrong? What can I do better _for them_. It's never about me. I can't let it be about me. The instant it becomes about me, I'm a failure to the rest of the world.

I stand outside in the midst of a tornado of emotions, staring back at the calm within. There is no calm here, and there never will be. I'm nothing but a mistake, a discarded sock that never had a mate. There's a hole in my soul and I can't quite grasp why. Laugh at me if you want to, but this is how I feel.

I try to be perfect on a daily basis. First everyone wants me to be more girly and dress in tighter clothing. But then the tighter clothes don't look quite right on my large frame. Lose weight, that's the answer. So I do. But then that's not right either. Now I look sick and feel worse than I ever have in my life. But I keep doing it, wasting away into nothingness... for you, for everyone. I turn every corner because someone commands it of me. I stand alone because that is all I am worth.

You say I look horrible... always so blunt about everything. But when I look in the mirror, I can see the beauty sitting just beneath that next layer of fat. You say you can't see it, but it's there. Another kilogram - one here, four there. Still not perfection, just illness I can't escape. Coughing fits I can't shake, breakdowns I can't understand, and stamina flying out the window.

The doctors told me to put it all back on or I'd die. I saw the error in my ways, but the reflection staring back at me tells me they're wrong. Each day in the mirror, it taunts me, telling me I'm getting further and further away from that seemingly unattainable perfection. But it _is_ attainable... you have it. I'm just not meant for it.

I refuse to accept that. I can have it, too. I _will_ have it. One day when you've all forgotten. I've told myself that for years. And now... now I'm attaining it. No one seems to notice the changes, the unexplainable illnesses, my shitty moods. No one sees the change in my demeanor, the loose clothing and what I hide from you just so I can look in the mirror and be pleased with what I see.

I don't want you to see. You'll all chastise me again; tell me I'm too skinny. But I'm not. I'm heading toward perfection, one step at a time. Build the muscle, lose every ounce of flab in my body. The scale says I'm almost there, almost to perfection. Three more kilograms... but I know tomorrow I'll want to lose four more and five the next week.

I'm wasting away into nothing. Soon I will not exist, just as I feel I do not. It's not my goal, but I know eventually my mind will take me there. Should I welcome it with open arms and find perfection just within my grasp? I will, because it is what I was born to do. To be everything for everyone except myself. You have all shown me perfection on every magazine cover and every glossy page. I am not perfection. But, you are. I'll find my way there or die trying.

I stand here, feeling alone and you watch me quietly from the corner table. Our eyes meet and I recognize the look in your eyes. You're sad. But why? I head over to you, thinking maybe it's because you're sitting there, all alone. But the look doesn't fade even when I sit down by your side and start idle conversation. If anything, the look grows. In my mind, it morphs into my worst fear and terrorizes me with every breath.

I can't breathe.

Your hand's on my arm, and tears are in your eyes. Your voice reminds me of who I once was, a me that's from so long ago that I can't even grasp it anymore. I reach out blindly, trying so hard to hold on to that last fragment, to hold on to a time when I was happy with who I was.

When you were happy with me.

And then I realize it. I'm falling away and you know I've failed. You've been watching me fall all along. I'm not perfect to you... but I once was. So long ago. Another life, it seems. Or maybe just another me.

You hold me close, in front of a hundred people, heedless of the looks. I find comfort in you. But can I find more? Can I find the pillar I need to support me until I can regain my own strength? You answer my questions without ever saying a word. You've been here all along. All I ever had to do was show you that I needed you.

Now you know and now you're here, holding me up. I still feel lost, but not alone. The warmth of your embrace tells me that I _can_ find my way back. Snatches of memories from over the years, things I chose to ignore that I shouldn't have.

I have no need to obtain perfection. Perfection is holding me close, muting and subduing my imperfection. I am overshadowed and protected by the glory you hold within you. I'll just fall back into the shadows and hide in them, ignoring my inner urges. And you... you'll stand front and center, your arms out to catch me should I continue to fall. Always the watchful eye, the leader without really being so.

I am your error. And you are my right. Together we'll neutralize and bond, a simple solution.

My future is clear. He's standing there, deep black, right in front of me, hand outstretched and a smile upon his lips.

In you... I find hope.

**The End**  



End file.
